


Hideaway

by kristsune



Series: Flowers and Tattoos [4]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Multi, both verbal and physical, everything is better now, killer has the best bfs, poke is ready to cut a bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 05:28:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10379538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristsune/pseuds/kristsune
Summary: Sometimes Killer just needs to hide for awhile.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Per usual, this was inspired from a conversation between [Jesse](http://thebisexualmandalorian.tumblr.com/) and I. I love our sons. Killer and Anomaly are theirs.

Poke was looking for Killer again. They all knew Killer needed to take time for himself, to get away from everything, but he had been gone for a good couple of hours, and they were getting worried.

Poke looked in the closet underneath the stairs, he was just about to shut the door when he  noticed the small square door - to the small storage area they never used - was ajar. He took a small breath through his nose, if Poke could get his hands on Killer’s parents for the way they treated him as a child, he would smack them both upside the head. At the very least.

He opened the door quietly to see Killer curled up with a single blanket, used mostly as a pillow. Poke tucked himself next to Killer, who just leaned into his touch. Not like he was touch starved, he’d been with them too long for that, but like he was still amazed that anyone wanted to touch, or be touched by him.

He was shivering slightly. It wasn’t too cold in here, but Killer had a tough time keeping himself warm in just about any weather.

Poke gently brushed Killer’s hair away from his face, and asked quietly into the small space, “How are you doing Kil’ika?”

Killer mumbled into Poke’s chest, “Sorry if I worried you. Just needed to hide for awhile.”

Poke kept brushing at his hair, “We know. It’s okay. It’s just been a while. We wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Killer nodded against Poke’s chest. “Would you like me to get Stick and we can get you somewhere warmer?”

“Yes, please.”

Poke texted Stick to come and carry Killer up to the bed, where they could cuddle him back up to temperature. 

He realized that there was a way that they would be able to make this better. In a way that Killer could still get his alone time, but they wouldn’t have to worry quite so much. Poke resolved that he would talk it over with Stick and Anomaly later.

\-------

Killer was at the closet door again. He really wished he wasn’t. He wished he didn’t still feel the need to get away, to hide, to be invisible. It wasn’t  _ necessary _ any more, he didn’t  _ need  _ to hide to survive, like he used to. To hide from the verbal, and physical abuse. To hide from the stares, and the sneers. It wasn’t only at home either. In school he always sat in the furthest back corner in class; to stay out of sight, and make sure there was no one at his back. He never participated more than he had to. He just, never _ fit in _ anywhere.

To be out of the way, meant he could stay unnoticed, and that was… easiest.

None of that was true anymore. Anomaly had done _ so much _ to help him to accept himself after they met at the coffee shop, and eventually got together. And then after they met Stick and Poke; Killer never felt more loved in his life. 

But there was still something in him that needed to get away, to hide, to be invisible again. 

So Killer found himself at the closet again, he sighed and got down to his hands and knees to open the small door. Hopefully he wouldn’t zone out so long this time, and worry the others so much.

Killer was met with a sight he had never would have imagined when he opened that small, square door.

There was a mass of pillows and blankets in the small space, of all different colors and textures, some soft and fuzzy, some silky, some fleeced. Killer looked down to see two switches with a small note, in Poke’s precise handwriting, that read “Flip me!” next to them. First he tried the left one, which lit up the small room with soft yellow and white string lights, which also exposed a small stack of books in the corner. 

He smiled as he turned it off to try the other, which lit up the room in a dreamy blue light. Light enough to still be able to move around and see, but still mostly dark, and calming. 

Killer felt tears forming at the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t believe they would do this for him. Not only did they understand his need to be alone, but they were willing to still  _ help  _ him though it, help him be  _ comfortable _ . 

Killer left the blue lights on, crawled into the space, covering himself with parts of at least three different blankets, and got comfortable. 

He drifted for awhile, but this time he wasn’t thinking about being alone or invisible, he was thinking about how lucky he was to have the other three. He drifted in the space his lovers made for him, with a lighter heart, and a smile on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone is curious, the storage space was inspired by RL, aka my actual closest downstairs in my apartment. 


End file.
